


The Butterfly Effect

by zirkkun



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Crosstale | XTale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Errortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Inktale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Outertale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underlust (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Undertale Multiverse | UTMV (Undertale), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anti-Void (Undertale), Body Horror, Bodyswap, Doodle Sphere, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Errortale Sans (Undertale), Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Home (Undertale), Human/Monster Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inktale Sans (Undertale), Interspecies Relationship(s), Multi, Other, Outertale Sans (Undertale), POV First Person, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader Remembers Resets (Undertale), Reader is human, Reader replaces Frisk's role, Relationship(s), Sans (Undertale) Needs a Hug, Sans (Undertale) Remembers Resets, Snowdin (Undertale), Soulmates, Stargazing, The Barrier (Undertale), Tsunderes, Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underlust Sans (Undertale), Underswap Sans (Undertale), Undertale AU, Undertale Reset Issues, Undertale Saves and Resets, Verbal Abuse, XTale Sans (Undertale) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:42:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26669146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zirkkun/pseuds/zirkkun
Summary: * chose not to use archive warnings because they were all too extreme for the instances planned to be included in the fic. there will be a few things such as mention of past sexual abuse, mild yandere, potential interpretation of body horror (flowers growing from neck), and potentially some other things. each chapter will be properly marked with necessary trigger warnings. *I kept fighting myself against these feelings, despite being accepted and supported for the relationship I had involved myself in. That human societal morality still dug in my chest -- the society that I was no longer a part of. It was hard to convince myself that everything was okay. It took a lot of bright smiles, soft cuddles, and genuine conversations to really allow myself to feel accepted. It took me nearly six months to accept the fact that humans and monsters can live alongside each other without having to worry about their differences. And now, I still remain here, right at his side. I could still feel the gentle touch of his fingertips against my skin as I drifted off to sleep by him for the thousandth time.So I think you can imagine my fear when I woke up alone in a completely different house.
Relationships: Sans (Undertale) & Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** no trigger warnings for this chapter. mostly just fluff and explaining past experiences. **
> 
> ** i don't write sans's dialogue in all lowercase purely for the fact that I just don't like how it looks in formal writing. **

It wasn't a reality I ever expected for myself, but it was happening nonetheless. The very tip of a temperate finger, silky smooth without even the texture of a fingerprint to taint it, brushed against my cheek. A smile couldn't help but curl at the corner of my lips, mirroring the permanent, toothy smile plastered on the face across from me. A chuckle surfaced from the both of us the second I reacted to his motion; I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his. The hand against my cheek slid to the back of my neck, the thin fingers fitting perfectly between the bumps of my spine, and pulled me just that little bit more forward to where the space between us was sealed, my lips pressed against his toothy grin. There were no opposing lips to lock mine to, but I no longer minded. That wasn't what mattered. Staying at his side, feeling the tender touch of his otherwise boney and rough fingers against my skin, and cuddling with his head cozily tucked under my chin as he held me close... Intimacy didn't have to be defined by following social norms.

But of course, leave it to me for being the one strange enough to date a skeleton monster before figuring this out. I guess some people just need to find out through extreme examples, myself apparently included.

Nevertheless, I didn't worry too much about it anymore. I used to be more self conscious about it, more hatefully self aware. But between him and his brother, not to mention their friends, I grew more accustomed to the idea of living with monsters no differently than I would any of my fellow human beings. Sure, it was a bit hard to stumble through this at first, but it's not like I was alone in adjusting to this new realization or lifestyle. I was alongside the monster friends I had made, who were adjusting to me living with them in this underground kingdom they called home.

I don't remember how I fell down here. It's been far too long by now. Maybe it was an attempted suicide? I'm not sure. My life outside of this place as a whole is just a blur, but I do remember I wasn't in a place of happiness. Angry about broken societal systems, feeling unable to adjust to the way the world was built just after I finally figured out how to work with my own self, and losing hope for the bright future I was once promised as a child. It would be no surprise if that's why I wanted to leave, why I came to the place where humans were rumored to never return from. And, frankly, I can see why. I don't want to leave this place. Here, I'm free of so many of my fears and worries. I'm free of hatred, debt, betrayal, and confinement. I could do and be how I wanted. The friends and family I've gained while living here are far closer to me than any of the humans I can even vaguely remember from on the Surface. But I didn't always feel this way; it took a certain skeleton to truly convince me to stay.

Until then, I'd been desperate to leave. Afraid of where I'd ended up. There was no one of familiarity around me -- not a single human being in sight for as far as I could see. Monsters of great variety were the only living creatures down here, ones that I couldn't have thought of even for the most obscure of fantasy novels. I was scared, despite the kindness I had received. My fear peaked when I met a murderous buttercup, but slowly began to dip when my life had been saved by a kindly woman with thick fur and the complexion of an anthropomorphic goat. But it never really went away until much farther down the line. Not even through many puzzles, dates, and playful japes did I even really teeter off the edge into security.

It had been blisteringly hot; used to the moderate temperatures from above, the volcanic heat of the lava pool city was not something I could handle well. With the lights of the bright resort coming into view is when I saw him waiting, his stained and tattered old jacket truly obvious amongst the glam and glitz of the Hollywood-like building behind him. His smile was the same as it always was -- while at that time, I hadn't known, but it was false, hiding a pain only he carried then. And yet, even then, when I saw it, the stress hanging in my heart was lifted for just a brief moment. He'd asked me back then if I wanted to get lunch with him, since he was on break. Having yet to develop any feelings, I agreed without much thought whatsoever. "Great, thanks for treating me," he had joked, earning a laugh from me.

We hadn't actually ordered anything. Rather, we just stood across from each other on opposite ends of one of the decorated tables, talking for quite a long time. He told me of the time where he started making jokes to a woman through the door to the Ruins, who I could only assume was none other than the woman who had helped me when I fell down here. But his tone had drifted off when he told this story; his eye contact was lost, that false smile ever so faltering to his thoughts. I hadn't even gotten the chance to ask what was wrong before he answered that question for himself. "Y'know, kid, what drives you to leave this place? You've already got so much down here... What else do'ya need other than some good friends, good food, and some bad laughs?"

I thought about it for a moment. I think he was going to brush aside the topic after my initial response of silence, but I had stopped him, interjecting with my own thoughts. "I don't know," I had answered truthfully. "I don't know what's driving me. I don't remember anything good from where I came from... All I know is that I'm scared, and I want to go back to where things are familiar."

He didn't know how to respond when I said that. That moment is probably the most shocked and unprepared for something I have ever seen him in my entire life. His smile's falseness revealed its truth, slipping away as he stared at me completely dumbfounded of the words that had fallen from my mouth. It was as if he had been hoping to hear someone say that for years. As if he had been begging for someone to answer his question. That broken false smile slowly turned itself into something more genuine as he continued our conversation. "C'mon, now. There's no reason to be scared. Sure, there's a lotta folks who keep ravin' about how your SOUL will free us, but at the same time, you don't have to step forward and tempt the king if you don't wanna." He had shrugged, hands still buried deep into his jacket pockets. "But, I'm not the one livin' your life. You do you. I ain't gonna tell you what you should or shouldn't do, not now."

I had let his words soak into my mind, deeply considering the suggestion he was ensuing. I couldn't help but wonder: what was normal life down here? I'd somehow managed, with my frail self-worth and lack of bravery, to befriend many of those who lived here. There was next to no one alive in the Underground who still wanted to hand my extracted SOUL to the king. With that knowledge, it clicked: it was safer for me here than it was anywhere else in this world. The moment this thought grazed my mind, I was already saying, "Do you know anywhere I could stay?"

I'd thought he was going to cry when I said that. I still don't know why it struck him the way it did, just my asking if he knew someone I could stay with. But regardless, he let me stay with him and his brother.

For a while, I lived on their couch. It wasn't particularly the most comfortable of living conditions -- the old, raggy, stained, and ripping couch was awful compared to my previous, yet very-below-average mattress -- but even so, the skeletons' cozy house eventually became my home. I even began calling it that only a few weeks into living here. Something about living here just clicked. Even when I woke up to aggravated yelling, one brother telling the other to get up and go to work, I couldn't help but just giggle and relax in the environment. They were a chaotic pair, those two, but they were inexplicably generous and beyond kind. I couldn't help but consider them as family in such short time. And, well, in the case of one... I couldn't help but fall in love.

I hadn't meant to. But that's always how it goes, isn't it? No one ever _means_ to fall in love. At first, actually, I hated it. I hated myself for it. The mere sight of him made me paranoid. He became confused as to why I would suddenly reject every moment he was so much as in the same room as me, but I couldn't answer. How could I? I was still adapting to the life of merely living without the presence of humans -- my internal morals screamed at every turn that this was nothing but _wrong_ and _disgusting_. No one wants to hear that about themselves. Not to mention, these monsters were still getting used to me, as well. To me, they were the weird ones, but to the greater society, I was the odd one out. The anomaly. Why should, by any means, should this guy accept my feelings, when there's thousands of people of his own kind surrounding him?

I hadn't meant to confess to him ever, truly. Had it not been for that one night where a dark dream swallowed my sanity whole, I don't think I would have ever said a word to him. But, as it is, no one ever chooses to have the dreams they do, either.

I had woken with a yelp and a jolt. The vague snowy light from the window above me still shimmered, despite the hour; adjusting to the time within an underground cave had been a bit of an interesting challenge. But I digress: at this point, such things no longer bothered me. Now, the only thing on my mind was a horrifying nightmare, one terrible fear looping its imagery before my internal eyes over and over again without fail. I hadn't wanted to go to him about this, but I was nearly weeping with fear. Had I been able to, I may have gone to his brother instead to talk to, but unfortunately, this was one of the many nights he opted against sleeping and instead decided to work overtime. I had no other choice, if I wanted to get this horror off my chest, than to speak to him directly.

I had taken a deep breath once I reached his door, my hand shakily gripping the handle. At this point, even though we had been living in the same house for over a month or so, I hadn't even been inside his room. I didn't know if I was welcome. That stress, on top of the fear cycling through my eyes, caused more and more tears to form. I refused to let them fall, wiping them against my shirt as I pushed through and opened the door, allowing myself in.

"Sans?"

The soft whisper of his name had left my lips, each sound struggling to hold together in a cohesive word. I had taken another step in, repeating his name, more softly the second time. The room had been pitch black, and there was barely even any sound to indicate someone might be living in there. Just when I had thought he was maybe too deep into his sleep to hear me, I had begun to turn around, only to register the sound of my name being sleepily strung together in a deep reply. Within that second alone, the dam holding back my tears broke loose; I hadn't wanted it to, but somehow, I had lost all control. I ran to the source of his voice, and without even so much as a thought or hesitation, threw my arms around his figure sitting at the edge of his mattress. He had laughed at first, until I let slip why I came to him in the first place.

"I'm so glad you're alive... I'm so glad I can hear your voice. I don't know what I would have done if that dream was real..."

His laughter fell silent. His body felt stiff in my grip, refusing to move or react for a very long time. Then, as if some instinct washed over him, his whole demeanor changed to hold me at his side and hush away my tears, assuring me he was alive and well with what seemed akin to the sound of desperation lacing his voice. His hands, however small and thin, were careful to caress me gently, reassuringly rubbing my back and softly stroking my hair. Such tender intimacy I had never felt before, and I wasn't so sure as to why I was feeling it now. The guilt of my feelings subsided for just a brief moment as I had nudged my nose into his collarbone.

"I love you, Sans. If you died... I don't know what I would do."

His actions didn't stop. Rather, the soft huff of a cheery chuckle was released as he pulled me closer, leaning in just next to my ear. "I love you, too," he whispered back to me. "Don't worry 'bout me dying on you. It won't happen. And I won't let you do go dyin' on me either, 'kay?"

I had laughed softly, joyfully accepting this response. After my tears began to cease, he still kept me close, and instead I fell asleep in his bed for the first time. In fact, from then onward, I never fell asleep on the couch again. Well, almost never.

His brother, while readily supporting us with open arms, couldn't bring himself to accept the idea of the two of us sharing a room for a fair amount of time. And just when he had started to grow accustomed to it, the two of us had to go and spoil it by... well, let's just say by being a bit too loud. His brother made me sleep on the couch that night. Needless to say, after that, anytime the two of us wanted to be a bit more intimate than usual, we didn't do it at home. Thankfully, his brother somehow wasn't concerned by us disappearing from the house every other night.

It took me, even still, quite a long time to adjust to the whole situation. It wasn't rainbows and sunshine after that. I still kept fighting myself against these feelings, despite being accepted and supported for the relationship I had involved myself in. That human societal morality still dug in my chest -- the society that I was no longer a part of. It was hard to convince myself that this was okay here. It was hard to convince myself that my actions were justified. It was hard to convince myself that everything was okay. It took a lot of bright smiles, soft cuddles, and genuine conversations to really allow myself to break through the old morals I no longer needed. It took me nearly six months to accept the fact that humans and monsters can live alongside each other without having to worry about their differences.

And now, I still remain here, right at his side. I could still feel the gentle touch of his fingertips against my skin as I drifted off to sleep by him for the thousandth time.

So I think you can imagine my fear when I woke up alone in a completely different house.


	2. Temporary Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** trigger warnings: mention of past sexual abuse and past mental abuse **
> 
> ** song theme for the chapter: temporary bliss by the cab **

"Sans?" I called out in a panic. No response. "Sans?" I called out once again, even more scared as I began to realize he truly wasn't here.

I had an idea of where I was, but I still wasn't sure. I kicked off the blankets I woke up wrapped in, finding that even my outfit was completely different from the one I fell asleep in. The room was faintly lit, the floor carpeted, neither of which were outside of my normal waking conditions. However, the layout of the room appeared far different than usual. Bolting out of the bed, I pushed my way through the door, discovering a familiar hallway outside -- but, despite the fact I knew exactly where I was, this did not settle my nerves. In fact, it made them worse, because I was in a completely different place from where I fell asleep.

A wooden-floor hallway covered up partially by a long rug, with side tables decorating the walls every so often. Everything was clean and neatly decorated -- and that alone is enough to indicate I'm in a completely different house. But I had been here before, so very long ago when I first came to the Underground. The yellow walls, the tan floors, the books and paintings filling all empty spaces on the walls. The lively place was unchanged, other than the fact that it was empty. It may have been risky, someone may have attacked the place, or killed who lived here to start holding me hostage; but even so, I still called out her name.

"Toriel?"

No response.

"Toriel? Are you here?"

My voice echoed through the empty hall. I took a few steps forward, the floorboards creaking every time I did so. It was the only sound in the entire house -- not even the fireplace was lit and crackling. Finding no sign of life from any corner of the tiny home, I found myself going to the last resort: the basement.

The stairs nearly cracked as I made my way down. I couldn't tell if every movement was amplified by the silence or the place was truly falling apart in its agony. Nevertheless, I pressed onward down the dank darkness, the usual torch lights having been burnt out for what seemed to be quite a while. The basement reeked of seeping water and unkempt mold; it remained as chilly as ever, the concrete surroundings giving the feeling as though that cold interior was closing in on me. I took a deep breath as I pressed onward. "Toriel?" I called out again, to no avail.

The exit to the Ruins, however, remained fully lit. And yet, no one was here. In a moment of fear, I even checked the place for dust, knowing this could easily be the place of Toriel's last breath, but there was nothing to be found. It remained as empty as the rest of the building.

I grew curious. Fear chilled me to the bone, but I reached my palm towards the stone doorway regardless, pressing onward. A rush of icy wind shocked me down my spine the moment the door was moved out of its place. Letting the vaguely bright snow shimmer into my dark-adjusted eyes as I continued, I couldn't help but squint.

Snowdin Forest remained ahead, no different than usual. The snow from the crack in Mt. Ebott's peak was still fluttering amongst the filtered sunlight as usual. Icicles remained where they always had been, as frozen as ever. The snow still crunched under my feet as I remembered it to as I began walking along the path I hadn't been to in what had to have been at least a year. My clothes were no longer suitable for the Snowdin weather: unlike Sans or Papyrus, a thin T-shirt and shorts wasn't going to cut it for me. But I knew I had no other choice than to keep going. I'd find someone I knew eventually, and from there, I could get help returning to my normal life, hopefully discovering what had decided to drag me out to the Ruins without anyone's notice.

I began to hear subtle footsteps behind me. Had this been any other time, I may have been concerned, but since I knew who those footsteps belonged to, I couldn't help but sigh in relief as I came to a stop at the bridge.

The crackling snow stopped directly behind me. "Human," a deep voice spoke softly. "Don't you know how to greet a new pal?"

"A new pal?" I laughed, turning around. Sure enough, it was exactly who I thought it was, without a doubt. I offered him a playful smirk. "You're really gonna call me, of all people, 'a new pal'?"

But his response wasn't comical. His outstretched hand faltered, confusion etched across his face. Even his permanently false smile seemed to be withering a bit as he met my gaze. Panic rose in my chest: I could feel my heart racing. "Sans, you... You know who I am, right?" I asked hastily. He didn't speak; his offered hand retracted as he seemed to be trying to figure something out, his stare a thousand miles beyond where we were standing from. His grin fell away, falling into a genuine frown for the first time I'd seen in a very long time. A lump formed in my throat, preventing me from asking anything more even though I desperately wanted to. My jaw dropped open, but not a sound fell out.

"Heh," Sans finally replied, his expression of fabricated joy slowly returning. "You're kinda weird, aren't ya? We just met, but'cha already know my name? Tell me, where'd you hear it from?" His tone was almost threatening, cutting into me like a knife through my chest. I could feel it in every word: he didn't trust me.

"Sans, what are you talking about?" I blurted without even thinking. I was merely desperate and scared, pleading that this was all just some sick joke. "It's me. You know me. We've been dating for months now."

His collected expression fell back into a frown as a blue haze coated his cheeks. "Whoa, hey there, don't go suggestin' stuff like that. We've barely met, kid. I don't even know your name."

My fear began to boil over into anger. "Sans, what the hell are you talking about? We've known each other for over a year at _least_ and you have the audacity to say we've just met? Do you need me to prove it to you somehow? Like, how I can see right through you right now -- your smile is not genuine, it's sad and cold. Or, even, the resets? How many times have I died in the past, only to return? Even you knew, when we were at the MTT Resort, when you said I'd never died, there was a twinge of a lie in your voice, and when I called you out on it, you just disregarded me. You didn't tell me until so much later that you actually remembered everything... You always remember everything... So why now, why _now_ have you suddenly forgotten?"

Opposite to me was the skeleton's confused and panic-stricken expression. I stared at him, uncertain of if this was even the man I knew. He shared his name and face, but it seemed nothing else. I felt myself begin to tremble, unsure of if this was from the cold or my horrific realization; as tears began to form and become icy at the corner of my eyes. I could see his concern: even now, I could see right through him and his oh-so vaguely changing expressions. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure what to do. His eyes were looking me up and down, as if searching for something. But his concern never changed.

He muttered something under the breeze of the wind. His gaze narrowed even more still as he flickered his eyes every which way. "You... Did you do a reset, and I can't remember?"

"No!" I cried. "I don't know? I don't know what happened... I just woke up in the Ruins after we fell asleep... And there wasn't anyone there." For a moment, his eyes contracted to mere white dots, but I stopped him before he could express his panic. "There wasn't even any dust. There's just no one in there."

He remained still, eyes relaxing back to normal, but his gaze fixated on the snow beneath our feet. The breeze toyed with his jacket, letting it fly gently in the wind as he remained completely silent. He offered his hand only after a gust of wind caused me to shiver intensely. "We've got a lot to talk about," he said sternly. "I'll take you to Grillby's."

I took his hand, and within the blink of an eye, we were standing outside of the Snowdin Town bar. The little bell on the entrance jingled as Sans pushed open the door. Immediately, he was greeted by many of the other regulars, to which he responded to them gleefully with a plethora of jokes on hand. It was insane to me how quickly he could change his demeanor: I had grown so used to seeing him be more genuine with his emotions that I had forgotten the usual comedic persona he used to put on for others to see.

We sat at the bar counter, to which Sans immediately ordered a drink from Grillby across the bar without even a second thought. He'd asked me if I wanted anything, but I declined the offer. I wasn't up for drinking at this hour, not to mention I don't want to add to Sans's already growing debt to Grillby. The second the flame bartender started working on Sans's order, Sans leaned into the counter, hand pressed against his cheek bone, as he let out a quick sigh. "So," he prompted, directing his attention to me. "Tell me. Before this reset, what happened?"

I began the tale from the very start, when I fell into the Ruins the very first time. I explained how I'd been attacked by a flower and rescued by Toriel. Though, I was scared of Toriel the first time I'd met her, and accidentally killed her as a result. I reset to bring her back, and Flowey called me out on this, but I continued. I first met Sans outside of the Ruins, where we'd just re-met now, where his brother Papyrus showed up decreeing how he'd capture a human. We went through puzzles, I fought him... I went through the whole story of each time I died, and how, when Sans and I met up at the MTT resort, I stopped continuing forward, favoring staying in the Underground instead. I'd traveled through it for at least a week by that point, and then lived with Sans and Papyrus for months before any relationship between Sans and I even started to blossom. Once this part of the story started, I could see the Sans across from me covering his face with his palm to the best of his ability. I continued, partially because I felt some of the information was necessary, and partially because I lost myself in the memories of what relationship I had. It was a fair amount of time before Sans silenced me, telling me I'd said more than enough information on the topic, his expression scrunched up in anger while his face was blue with embarrassment.

"Well... All of that... That was at least a years' worth of time," I mumbled, finalizing the cut-off story. Sans slammed a gulp of his drink down before placing the glass back on the table. His eye sockets closed in frustration, he let out a quiet groan of agony.

"... I dunno what to do about any of this, kid," he finally concluded. "I don't remember anything of what you just said. 'specially not... That dating part. The last time I did that was..." He took another sip of his drink. It was nearly gone already, and it wasn't a particularly small glass. I frowned, a bit worried for him, but somehow I could already hear him pulling the same "Don't worry, I haven't got any liver to destroy" he always used to when I commented on his drinking.

"It's as if I've been transported to a save point long before any of my resets were... Registered? If that makes sense..." I claimed uncertainly.

"Nah, I get what you're sayin'. Only problem is I dunno how that could happen, really," Sans responded, strumming his fingers against his alcohol glass. He stared into the remaining liquid pensively, not speaking for quite a long time. "Even if you had been reset to that point, I should have remembered what happened. But I can't, not even a vague semblance of a dream. There's just nothin' there." Evidently frustrated, he downed the rest of his drink, calling for Grillby to get him another. I remained silent, despite my worry. "Look, I," Sans began to speak again, but stopped himself almost instantly. He stared at the counter for a long while before finally heaving a long breath, leaning back in his seat. He flashed me a grin and a wink, finishing his opening words with, "I don't remember anything, but if you do, why don'cha help me pick up the reins from where we left off, eh?"

I grinned just as falsely as he was. "I guess we could do that," I answered, my heart sinking to my feet. It wasn't going to be the same, that much I could tell. Everything had been set back by at least a year, and now that I'd changed how it all started, nothing would go quite the exact same way as it had before. If nothing else, it was the rule of the butterfly effect.

And at this point, while I didn't know it yet, I was only experiencing the very first of the many butterflies I'd be crushing under my feet.

* * *

It was an awkward restart, to say the least. I knowing so much about him, and he so little about me, left conversations too bare and awkward to be had. Anything he'd try to say about himself I almost always already knew, but I didn't want to keep relaying everything that I remembered either, especially since so much of it left him uncomfortable, if not even a little bit disappointed that he couldn't remember any of it at all. He, thankfully, stopped drinking after his second glass; at least from that I could tell he was a little less stressed, but it was evident that Sans was having a lot of difficulty adjusting to the situation so quickly. I didn't wanna pressure it, either: he already had enough on his plate to worry about, and throwing this sudden relationship on top of it was definitely not going to help his case at all. Frankly, internally, I had already begun to come to terms with the fact that this was the last time we'd ever talk like this. I didn't expect him to fall for me again in a situation like this, it just seemed unreasonable to accept that from someone. His suggestion to try again despite his memory loss was a nice gesture, but it's not going to be the same, and there's nothing either of us can do about it.

So I just smiled and pretended to enjoy the day like any other.

After we left Grillby's, Sans seemed to be in a bit more content of a mood, but even I was having difficulty figuring out if he actually was more content or was just trying to fake it. We had been walking side-by-side towards the direction of his house for a little while before I actually snapped out of my own thoughts to realize he had lagged behind me. "Sans?" I prompted, beginning to turn around -- only to be met in the face with a sopping wet ball of snow. As it melted and began to drip off of my face, cold as ever, I could spot Sans cackling off in the distance. "Oh, so you're gonna play that game, huh?" I remarked, a smirk crawling up my cheek as I dug around me and slapped together my own snowball. But when I threw it, Sans dodged it with ease.

"What, did'ya think I was gonna let you throw another one back at me? I just watched you make it, no _way_ am I letting you win that easily," Sans laughed.

"Win? So it's a contest now?"

"It can be if you want it to be." His smile phased into a mischievous smirk. I began to dig around on the ground for more snow when another snowball splat into my forehead. "Oh, and I already have a few made. If you hadn't noticed." Annoyed, I peered back to him, only to be even more peeved the second I saw about four more snowballs stacked, perfectly balanced, on his left index finger. His right hand remained, as usual, stuffed into his pocket. It was borderline insulting, especially with that tantalizing smile that was permanently plastered across his boney cheeks. 

I wiped off some of the watered-down snow still on my face with my shirt, standing up almost immediately, both hands behind my back. "At this rate, you're just going to win regardless of what I do," I sighed. "It's not fair for a mere human to go against an ex-quantum scientist with magic and teleportation powers."

The four snowballs balancing on Sans's finger fell to the ground, he stuffing his hand back into his jacket pocket. "Giving up so quickly? Lame," he teased. "It's not a fun win when I just win by default. Oh, and, one more thing."

He disappeared from before me. In that same instant, I felt a harsh breathy tone behind my ear.

"Your attempt to catch me off-guard was _way_ too obvious."

I shrieked, dropping the snowball I'd been holding behind my back. Sans was losing it, laughing harder than he had all day. "Pfft, you shoulda seen your face!" he blurted. "You were really _frozen_ with fear!"

I cursed his name under my breath, grinning all the same regardless. This was really the Sans I knew, despite everything. Maybe it would be easier to adjust than I thought...? No, it's only easier for _me._ I have to remember that he still has little idea who I am.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm definitely cold at least," I retorted. "Can we go home already? I'm freezing with all this cold water dripping off of my face."

Still giggling like crazy, Sans nodded, leading the way. We were back home... well, to _his_ home, in no time. Frankly, I wasn't entirely certain that he was wholly the same person I had met before. I couldn't convince myself of that. Besides, don't memories make up who a person is? Even if he is the same, he's not the _same._

I put my thoughts aside as I found myself wandering back to the tattered, stiff green couch I once called my bed. Don't get me wrong, Sans's bare mattress that was so haphazardly tossed on the floor was not by any means much better sleeping conditions... but, it felt better, since he was there. God, now I'm becoming so cheesy that I just wanna shut myself up. I shook my head as I sat down. Sans found his place next to me, but keeping a fair enough distance as he flopped down into the cushion. He flashed a slight glance to me, almost as if uncertain of what to say, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets. "So, uh," he mumbled, "wanna watch TV or somethin'?" To ease the awkward silence, I agreed to the suggestion. As I suspected, nothing was on other than the MTT station, as per usual.

The air remained tense despite the echoing sounds of Mettaton's show within the room. I couldn't focus on anything playing; it just became white noise for my thoughts. I stared at the floor, wondering what it is I should say to try and strike up a conversation. The normalcy of that snowball fight had begun to calm my nerves, but just as quickly, they fell back into place, tangling around my heart as they suffocated it into hyperventilating. Being so preoccupied, I was startled to feel a slight touch on my hand that had been pressed against the cushion next to me; instantly, and without thought, I retaliated. But when I swapped my attention towards Sans's face instead, seeing the blue speckles across his cheeks and the concern in his eyes, I regretted this instinct.

His gaze flickered away. "Um... Sorry," he murmured, so quietly I could hardly hear him.

"No, no, I'm sorry. I was just really lost in thought and didn't expect... I didn't expect that. I'm sorry, you're fine, promise." I tried to reassure him, but I knew instantly that my final choice of words was far from practical. His eyes, still not looking at me, narrowed a bit, his grin even faltering. I wasn't going to force him if he didn't want to, but I also didn't want to come of as discouraging him from initiating something either.

This poor guy... I just waltzed in here, disrupting his normal day, and screamed at him as if I already knew him. He was someone else. This wasn't the Sans I knew. I had to admit that. I had to believe it. I had to know it, deep in my desperate and cracking soul. I took a deep breath, facing my head towards the TV once again, but my mind was still lost amongst my unending thoughts.

"Hey, ah..." Sans spoke again, voice a little more chipper this time, but not necessarily convincing. "You said we were, uh, dating in the last timeline, right?" I nodded. "I know you already told me bits about it, but..." His voice fell off, the sentence unfinished. I waited for him to finish before I even thought of prompting anything -- I wasn't exactly sure where he was going with this. Trying to focus my gaze to him again, I saw him merely staring at the floor, eyes flickering between a few focal points, jittering in nervousness. Had it been normal times, I'd have tried to reassure him with some sort of hug or by holding his hand, but now... I had to painfully keep that urge to myself. "Could you tell me something? Like... How was I... in the last timeline?"

I blinked. "How were you in what instance?"

Sans paused briefly before continuing, as if debating something. His flickering eyes landed on me for a moment, still shaking anxiously. "Was I happy?" he asked bluntly.

I answered him honestly. "I'd never seen someone with more genuine happiness before."

With a blink, his shaking eyes returned to normal, gaze widening with realization. The smile on his face fell away, but he wasn't frowning. His fingers that were still outside his pockets, the hand that had tried to hold mine earlier, scraped and dug into the already tearing green fabric of the couch. Sans's entire posture began to stiffen; his attention never left my eyes, as if he was desperate or afraid of losing something. Within seconds, his toothy grin returned, and with it narrowed eye sockets dripping with tears. "Sans? Are you okay?" I blurted suddenly.

"Heh, I _wish,_ " he laughed. "I really wish. I wish I could remember what it was like to be happy... At least then, maybe I'd feel a little better, like there was something to work for... something to _hope_ for. But... but..." He cut off his words, hastily and angrily wiping his cheeks off with his stained sweatshirt sleeve. "Damn. I haven't done this in probably a decade or so. Fuck." His tone had started out carefree, but fell into disgusted disappointment swiftly. His smile was wiped away with the tears, a harsh fury taking its place. "Why, of all the times to not remember something..." he mumbled under his breath. "Fuck. I'll be back." Without hesitation, Sans jumped up from the couch, heading towards the stairs at a quick pace, but I leaped after him and snatched his sleeve. He flipped his head back to face me, anger seething through his pained expression. "Let go."

"Talk to me," I pleaded. "Don't bottle this up. I've been through that hell before... And you were the one that helped me through it. So, please. Let me help you. I've done it before, I can do it again, even if you don't remember."

Even still, he ripped his sleeve back from my grip, disappearing within an instant. I only hoped he went to his room and not to Grillby's.

I, as quietly as I could on creaky stairs, crept up to the second floor. It was silent, aside from the television downstairs, so I still wasn't sure if Sans was still in the house. Regardless, I continued down the hall, just in case.

Muttering. _Loud_ muttering. _Angry_ loud muttering. It only took a few more steps to realize Sans was most definitely still home. I snuck up next to his bedroom door, sitting next to the doorframe, trying to listen to what he was saying.

"... and of course it's a fucking human. I'm so fucking sick of seeing humans. That kid who comes through here, I couldn't trust them if my life depended on it, they change their mind in an instant. And then, those random other ones that appear every once in a while? They're the fucking worst. God, I'm so sick of it. 'A relationship,' ha, yeah-fucking-right. So many stupid fucking humans, suggesting that to me, like I'm some kind of idiot. I'd never trust a human enough with a damn empty ketchup bottle, much less anything even remotely important like my little remaining pride." There was a pause between the words, a hiccup of a sob squeaking through the walls. "Dammit... I can't fucking do this... Why... Why does it have to be a timeloop? Why couldn't I have just had anything normal to deal with, so I could just... End it, like any _normal_ person would do? But I can't. There's no point. There's no point to any of this... There wouldn't even be any point for trying for that supposed happy fantasy they came up with... Even if it came true... It'll just reset. It'll never happen. It can't happen. I can't feel joy. I can't feel. I'm not allowed to. All because humans are so selfish."

If Sans had ever felt this way before, the one that I knew, he never told me about it. I couldn't help but feel guilty. This guy didn't deserve this pain. I was just subjecting him to the same repetitive torture he went through constantly. The lingering thought of "so many humans suggesting to me to be in relationship with them" stuck the hardest, cycling through my mind on a frustrated loop of confusion. How many times has he gone through this same thing? How many other people had fallen down here, or woken up here, even, with the intent of talking to just Sans? I couldn't fathom the idea. Though, I didn't know him when I fell down here... Is it possible there's somewhere on the surface, somewhere far away from where I lived, where people know of Sans already?

To go through this kind of life... Why? I know he's stuck here, but, why would he continue to just... Satisfy what people wanted from him? Did it make life easier than tossing them aside? I couldn't... It didn't make sense. Was I one of those...? Was that why I was forgotten...?

The door handle clicked; the wooden door was gently pushed open to reveal about half of Sans, standing in the doorway. His gaze was fixated on the floor, but he was facing me, acknowledging that I was here. "Figures," he sighed. "Can't have two seconds to myself."

"I'm sorry," I apologized immediately, knowing it would do no good. "I just wanted to help, but, I think in being here, I've made things worse." I pushed myself off of the ground. "I'll leave you alone, you probably want some time to yourself."

"No, I came back out here for a reason." Sans heaved a heavy breath. "C'mon," he said, gesturing me to follow him into his room. While confused, I did so anyway. He clicked the door shut behind me. "Guessin' you heard everything I was whinin' about, huh?" Still feeling guilty, I merely nodded. "Not what you expected from me, right? I can see it. Sorry, but I'm still a broken mess, heh. I don't think whatever help you were gonna offer could really ever help me. I'm long past gone." His gaze fell to the floor; he started wandering to the other side of his room, glancing over the endless mess he called home. "But I've got a question for ya."

"What is it?" I asked, trying to sound sincere and yet not eager at the same time.

"What's so wrong with just acceptin' your mistakes? Why do you humans hafta just... restart, as if they never happened, every time somethin' goes slightly off from what you wanted? I know I'm alone in rememberin' it all, but... why won't you humans just think of somethin' outside of yourselves for once?" He kicked a sock from his floor onto his bed. "Let me guess. Whatever happened in your last timeline, you didn't like how the narrative was going. You missed the excitement of falling in love or seeing me being 'cute and flustered' or somethin' like that." He made air quotes as he said the phrase "cute and flustered," his voice mockingly high-pitched. "You were bored. So you started from the beginning."

"Actually," I began, fearing he'd disregard my statement anyway. "I didn't even reset. Or, intend to? I was really content with where things were -- happy, even. We... We both were." I finalized the statement with a risky whisper.

Sans remained staring away from me. The room echoed with silence. I let it hang, having nothing else to say and scared if he would respond well or not. He didn't even move; it felt like ages before his voice broke the silence. "Then why?" he whispered. "Why bother?"

"I didn't! I swear!" I exclaimed. I didn't know what else to say. I knew there was no way of convincing him, truly. Coming to this conclusion mentally, I let loose a sigh caught in my throat, taking a step towards the door. "I'm sorry. I know nothing I say will change how you feel. You have ever right to hate me if that's really how you feel." Nervously, I continued, feeling my palms begin to clam up. "I know you're not the Sans I met. I know you're not the Sans I fell in love with. So... I'll leave you be."

My feet froze to the floor. I could move, but it was straining to do so, not to mention incredibly slow. I tried to turn my neck to see Sans, but I was pulled back to that side of the room before I could even attempt. My back hit the window on his opposite wall, enough to hurt, but not enough to cause damage. Regardless, I mumbled curses under my breath. "What?" I sneered. "Is there something else you want to berate me about?"

Sans's expression was dull, white eyes focused on my feet as he stood still facing his mattress. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as usual, but his stance seemed more tense for once; his pockets were turned towards him, as if he was holding a tight grip on the fabric. Finally, he turned to face me, still as uninterested as ever. "I don't get you," he stated. "I thought you were the same as most of the humans who fall down here with some ridiculous obsession with me." He closed his eyes, his grin falling into a slight frown; it felt almost sarcastic to see him this way. "You even did somethin' so stupid as to claim we had already been dating, but now you're just... Throwing that away? For me?"

"Why are you so bitter about... what, respecting your reaction?" I questioned. "And, if you're so against this, why did you even bother offering to do the whole relationship over again?"

"I wanted to get it out of the way," Sans snapped. "I'm sick and tired of every reset, meetin' a different human at the Ruins who can't help but keep their attention glued to me for every single thing I do. The first couple'a times it happened, it was kind of nice, y'know? Having someone else tryin' to care about me... But I grew to realize that if they really cared about me, they wouldn't've reset. So..." He shrugged, winking with a giant grin spread across his face. "I jus' don't care about anyone anymore. Force my way through it until whatever human who comes down here is satisfied with what I've done. I guess it's better than the times where humans come down and kill everyone, or lie as they 'free' us for the nth time... it's like, a break from the usual schedule. And even though it's fake, it definitely feels nice to have someone tell you how much they care about'cha. It's like a temporary bliss that'll be gone by the time I next wake up."

I didn't know what to say. I couldn't help but be certain that I was part of the problem, frankly. How would I not be? I yelled at him for this, and then he just assumed I was the same kind of person he met every day. There's really nothing I can do about this situation, no matter how much I want to.

Sans shoved his hands back into his pockets, grin remaining, however false appearing. He sighed, gaze darting off to the side as he stared at the wall. "But you. You're weird, y'know? You don't care about that. If I hadn't've pulled you back just now, you woulda left, right?" He chuckled. "Bud, you've got _no_ idea how long it's been since someone's done that. Actually, I don't think anyone has. They usually lean to me for somethin' or another, even when the kid falls down here. I don't get it."

I couldn't help but feel guilty regardless. "I can't believe you've been so deprived of normal kindness that you're shocked and confused when it's given to you." His smug pose was replaced with bewilderment. I continued, "I'm entirely certain you're not the Sans I knew, because he didn't have most of the problems you do. I don't even know who this 'kid' is that you mentioned. But regardless, I can't help but see him in you, and I'd like to think I can respect you just the same. Who knows, maybe this is just some twisted dream for me, and we'll never see each other again. So I'll just leave you be?"

Sans remained silent, his gaze still focused away from me. I began to lean away from the windowsill, taking a step forward, when he suddenly panicked, fear striking his narrow white eyes. "Wait - wait a minute. Um, before ya go..." He stopped his sentence dead in its tracks, almost like he hadn't prepared what he was going to say. His focus faltered, eyes trembling a bit, but kept his attention on me as if his life depended on it. "You..." His voice was soft and careful, as if genuinely afraid of what he was saying. "You still, uh, care about me... right?"

Though I had a feeling of what he was going for, I felt asking for clarification was necessary. "In what way?"

A soft blue speckled his cheeks. "I -- uh..." Sans pulled a hand out of his pocket, rubbing the back of his head. He turned his face into the sleeve of his jacket, muttering something into it; his shoulders tensed up as he spoke, but I couldn't hear a word he said. I asked for him to repeat himself, which seemed to instantly cause both relief and more stress at the same time for him. He slowly turned to face me again, shaded a dark blue; "I said... Y'know, do you still care about me like the 'Sans' you knew?" His hand curled around the bottom edge of his jacket. "Could I spare your attention for a little while, before ya go?"

I raised an eyebrow. A lot of me thought that I should say no, and leave him be; that was probably the better option. But at the same time, that trembling fear in his eyes, and the same flustered look scattered across his cheeks. He's still Sans. I know he is. Even if he's not the same one I know... He still is Sans.

I let my lips curl into a smile, a soft breath leaving my nose in a very light sigh. "If you need me to listen to you for a little while, or just to be here for you, sure thing."

His shrunken eyelights began to return to their normal size, his smile falling into a shocked frown -- as if he was both relieved to hear my response, but also surprised. Within a few moments, that returned to his standard blank-stare-with-false-grin expression. His stiffened posture began to relax. "Heh, thanks," was all he could muster. "Guess we can stay in here... I don't really have anywhere to sit, so, uh, hope ya don't mind sitting on my bed."

We just sat and talked for a long while. Or, rather, he did most of the talking. Sans seemed so incredibly relieved with every sentence he spoke, as if he'd been carrying each one of them on his back for years and years with no where to set them down and so much as take a break. Now, it's not as though the whole of our conversation was so light-hearted -- rather, it was pretty much the opposite. It started out pretty pathetically, as I feel most forced conversations begin, with heavy spaces of silence and awkward questions about the weather. I don't remember what I said, but something I mentioned at one point tipped him off, and Sans just started dumping everything on his chest all at once. He didn't stop: he'd lead one story into the next.

They weren't pretty stories. Sans brought up again the many people who he's met during the plethora of resets, and the amount of stress he's been through for however long he's been in this cycling world. He started off remembering "what used to be his only problem," as he called it, when "that anomaly decided to come through and murder everyone over and over again, right before his very eyes." No one else was quite as shaken up about it as he was, so he convinced himself that it was because he was the only one recalling the events before the rollback in time. It grew heavy on him until finally, the death cycles stopped. But instead, something new happened. Every once in a while, the same kid would come through, but they wouldn't be anywhere near as proactive or murderous as they had been in the past. But it was the others who fell down that caused his newfound stress. The kind of person he thought I was the second he found me.

"Maybe they don't all mean ill intent," he'd mumbled, "but I dunno. It's... hard to tell." He scratched the side of his skull in thought. "There's just so many... and they're only ever interested in me. No one else, not that I've seen anyway. And it's just... y'know, you'd think being told over 'n over again that I'd feel a bit better about myself, but it's actually had the opposite effect, heh. I feel worse than ever before." He shut his eye sockets as he continued. "It's not just constantly being told that they love me before resetting, either. It's... It's what they _do_ to me. What they _do WITH_ me." There was a long break between this sentence and the next, silence echoing in the small bedroom. "I don't care about most things, hell, I don't even care about myself. But sometimes, I wonder how low my self esteem can go, when I put myself in situations I'd rather not be in, and let myself be what someone else wants for their sake over mine." He stared at his hands, which were sprawled across his lap, legs hanging off the edge of his mattress. They were trembling so much, a gentle clatter began to echo from his bones. A raspy breath fell from his mouth. "Sometimes I have no control over what I do. Sometimes I'm not allowed to choose what I do. There's been some nice people every once in a while, some who are just here because of their own problems... but there are others who just... _want_ me, y'know?" He forced a laugh. "Who just want a ticket to the bone zone and nothin' else. It's..." Sans's voice croaked, his fingers twitching as he pulled his hands into a fist. "There's been times where it's fine, but others where I have no control over my actions. Sometimes even those aren't so bad, but it's... terrifying, y'know? Especially when sometimes you're forced to... do something to someone that they don't want. That you don't want. And yet, somehow, despite it all, these people all say they love me."

All composure falling to dust, Sans collapsed his face into his hands, grumbling something I couldn't hear. "Look," he spoke louder, "not all of these incidents are like this. They're pretty rare, actually. But... when you've been forced into that kind of situation... it sticks. I can't shake it. It's... It's why I just wanna get stuff over with. But sometimes I can't, mostly when I don't have control over my own actions. It's like bein' forced to watch a nightmare. I can't _do_ anything. But I can _feel_ , _hear_ , and _see_ everything." His voice trembled, some words cracking as they fell from his throat. "It'd probably be a lot easier if I jus' said it like it was, but... I can't bring myself to believe it actually happened. Right? None of this matters anyway, so who's to say any of it is even real?" He sucked in a very harsh, shaky breath. "But goddamnit, does it _feel_ real."

I didn't know what to do. I didn't even know what to say. Part of me wanted to give him a hug and tell him everything would be alright, but not only did physical contact seem like a terrible idea, but I _couldn't_ be sure it would be alright. I don't know what happened to bring me to where I am, and I don't know how easily I could be pulled away yet again. But I couldn't just sit here and do nothing, right? Not while Sans is sitting right in front of me, breaking down. He's probably never told this to anyone. He's probably never had the chance to.

Amidst my panicked thoughts, Sans perked his head back up to face me. His permanent smile still remained in his face, blue tears dripping from his eye sockets to further bring it out. I, instinctively, reached out my hand with the intention of pulling him close, but stopped myself, remembering what I'd just told myself. I hesitated, my arm falling back down; Sans stared at it for a moment before carelessly bumping his head into my palm like some kind of cat. I was taken aback, honestly speaking. He reached his hand up to mine, holding it tightly as he pressed it against his cheek. He did nothing else for a long time. He just sat, silently, and let out as many tears as his body would allow for. I remained just as silent.

It was probably at least a full hour of silence. Eventually, however, Sans started to grow tired. His eyelids began to flutter open and closed; his body began to waver as he tried to hold his upright sitting position. Soon after he noticed this, his gaze flickered to me, our eyes locking for the first time in hours. A half-hearted, slightly embarrassed grin to his face, he murmured, "Hey... I know, well, I barely know ya... but do you mind if I... kinda, uh, rest my head on your lap or somethin'?" Sans's words had slurred more with an awkward tone behind them as he continued speaking, a blue haze covering his cheeks.

I couldn't help but smile in response. "I'll be your pillow, if that's what you want me to do to help you relax." He chuckled his appreciation.

It was awkward at first, as if he was almost forcing himself to do this. His pose was stiff, and the eye contact was weird. But soon enough, he started drifting off to sleep. I didn't want to walk away from him, so I stayed, and eventually lay down to fall asleep as well. I only woke up when Sans shrieked with horror, scaring me awake.

He'd had a nightmare, and now, he was hyperventilating and couldn't stop.

A panic attack.

I did the best I could to help him calm down: breathing exercises, focusing on the room he was in, anything I could recall from having my own. His grip on my hand was so tight, I thought he might cut off all circulation, but as it was, Sans did eventually calm down, and his breathing returned to a normal state. He didn't want to discuss the contents of the nightmare, but knowing our conversation from earlier, I could only assume it was a recollection of something drastic. Sans just wanted to go back to sleep right away, but this time, he had a different request.

"Sorry, I know I'm bein' super weird," he began, eyes narrowed as he stared at the floor. "But... do ya mind if I... listen to your heartbeat as I fall asleep?" His voice was a calm and soft tone that I'd never heard him use before. Face as flushed blue as ever, he couldn't even hold eye contact.

I just grinned. I don't think now was the time to concern myself with what I preferred. "Go ahead," I told him. "Whatever makes you comfortable."

The last line hit him like a sack of bricks. All expression on his face wjped to nothing, his eye lights narrowed to dots. It's as if he'd never heard these words before, strung into a single sentence. His smile came back quick as ever, genuine as ever, as he soon cuddled up by my chest and listened carefully. He was so peacefully quiet, I couldn't have felt happier falling asleep.

I should mention, too. He never once let go of my hand the second he took it. He desperately held on, as if I was some last chance at hope for him.


	3. Love Like You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** trigger warnings: mild body horror, violence (no blood), mild verbal abuse **
> 
> ** song theme for the chapter: love like you cover by ashe **

My hand was cold once I woke up. I gripped at the air, feeling nothing around me. Desperately, I tried to lazily reach my arm out, hoping I'd find Sans somewhere next to me. Nothing. Giving in, I cracked my eyes open.

I wasn't even in Sans's house anymore.

I shot up from the bed I was in. I'd woken up in the same house as yesterday, but the sheets on this bed were far more tattered. Some of the paint was chipping off of the red bedroom walls. I took a step down off of the mattress, my feet touching the cold, wooden floor. I could have sworn it was carpeted. Wait, that aside, I could have sworn I had _shoes_. But, searching every corner of the room, I found not even a sock. There was nothing in here aside from empty dressers and dirt.

I pulled open the wooden closet's door; it creaked loudly as I did, as if it hadn't been used in years. As I assumed, there still wasn't anything inside, but what I did find was a mirror on the inside of the door, cracked and falling apart onto the floor, but the majority of it was still in tact. Though, the condition of the mirror was nothing compared to the condition of my own body. My hair was a mess, strands going every which way, and when I went to adjust it, it was so thick with grease that I nearly thought it was wet. Disgusted, I stopped touching it, but that wasn't even the half of what changed. My skintone and eye color were the same, but my outfit was entirely different, not to mention torn. Every edge of the fabric was frayed, as if I'd grabbed rags off of the street. What the hell happened last night? How did I even end up here? And why did this room get so trashed if I was the only one here between yesterday and now? Well, I guess I can't know that I was the only one here... I did get _back_ somehow, after all.

As I went to close the door back up, I noticed something protruding from the base of my neck. It was small and azure, like a little sphere of some kind. I rubbed my thumb against it: it hurt to touch, but it was most certainly growing out of my neck, through my skin. I didn't know what to do with it. I tried to pull it out, but doing so somehow caused me to nearly choke, as if there was something attached to the little ball that was roped around my esophagus. I coughed and hacked, gripping my throat as I collapsed to the ground in pain. Even worse is that, after my panicked coughs of pain, is that I could feel the little blue ball wriggling and moving as I began to recover. Instinctively, I clawed my neck, only causing my pain to flare up once again as I shrieked. Horrifically, I pushed myself up from the floor, trying to inspect what was previously a blue lump on my neck.

The lump had unfolded. From it sprouted a very small azure forget-me-not, its petals moist like a real, growing flower. I brushed its surface, feeling the touch as if it was part of my skin. It sent a shiver down my spine: this isn't supposed to happen. Why is there a flower growing out of my neck?

Everything today was driving me crazy. The past two days? Whatever.

I forced myself to walk outside of the room, shaking with aftershock from the pain in my throat. The hallway from the house I recognized was completely different -- everything was trashed, even worse than the room I had been in. Flower pots that were once on tables were shattered and scattered across the floor. The lights were dim, broken, and flickering. But, the same as yesterday morning, the home was empty without a trace of life or dust. Even as I found myself crawling through the basement again, I couldn't find anything other than the ice cold floor under my feet -- which grew colder with each step I took towards the exit.

A gush of freezing cold wind hit my face as the Ruins door creaked from my touch. I shivered instantaneously, only feeling the cold worse and worse. Carefully, and fearfully, I took a step with my bare feet into the icy snow, recoiling almost immediately. _I have to go. I have to move._ I repeated the same encouragement in my head over and over, taking heavy breaths as the cold bit at my skin more and more by the second. Eventually, I closed my eyes, threw open the door, and slammed my foot into the snow. It hurt. Another step. More pain. Keep going. It was so cold.

There didn't seem to be anyone else out in forest yet -- at least, I didn't hear anything, but I was also moderately preoccupied by the sharpness of pain in my toes. I took a heavy breath once again, the exhale visible in the cold air, pushing through this pain. There has to be _someone_ , right? Maybe Sans again? Or maybe even Papyrus? Anyone else? I don't know what to do here, or how to get home...

Then I spotted it. The bridge, with its silly, oversized gate that barely balanced enough across the opening to stand up correctly. If things went as they normally did, in a little bit, I should hear that familiar voice...

_"Human."_

Oh no.

That wasn't familiar at all.

It was deeper, more raspy, and overall... _terrifying_. I froze in place, my now numbed feet succumbing to the pins that surrounded my every bit of exposed flesh.

_"Hey, now... don'cha know how'ta greet a new pal? Turn around."_

I swallowed quietly, slowly turning myself to face the voice's source standing behind me. I had already been trembling from the cold, but now I was shivering with fear so much that I'm surprised I haven't fallen over yet. My breath stuttered, jittering with every slight movement I made.

Red. It was the first thing I noticed about him. His whole outfit was lined with red traces, even his sweater was solid crimson. His black jacket had red patches along its golden stripes down each arm, matching the stripes on his black gym shorts. But when I caught sight of his face -- it was almost unbelievable. So much was familiar, yet so much was different. I could see in those eye sockets and with the shape of his skull, this was Sans, but those teeth... shark-like, one having been replaced by gold that was jammed into a now cracked part of his upper jaw. His smirk was horrifying, yet somehow patient, as he waited for me to finally turn around before continuing his speech.

The red Sans pulled a hand out of his pocket, every bone on it visible and cracked, unlike Sans's usual mittens. I stared at it for a long time, as if I'd somehow never seen these hands before, but I think I took in those scars the most. It was like a worn-down version of what I was used to. An abandoned version you'd find at the second-hand store. But soon, he pushed the hand closer to me, aggressively demanding, "Shake my hand."

I reached out my left hand nervously, feeling somehow more scared to go for a handshake than I was to freeze my feet off in the snow. But the second my palm touched his, I was struck with a jolt that flew up my arm and straight down my spine until it could fly from my feet into the ground. I yelped at the sudden pain -- only for the tension to break with the red Sans's deep voice erupting into a fit of laughter. He was absolutely losing it, even trying to speak but finding himself unable to for how much his giggling just overwhelmed his entire being. Eventually, he finally hacked out through laugher, " _Fuck_ , the joy buzzer in the hand trick, it's _always_ funny."

I couldn't help but wonder about him. His speech was so similar to Sans's, but just that little bit different. His word choice, his actions, even his choice of humor was just as dorky as Sans's. But something was so incredibly different about him. I don't know what happened. Is this still him?

"Well, nice to meet'cha, I'm --"

"Sans, right?"

The eyelights of the skeleton before me shrank with sudden fear, his previous expression of joy falling apart. I couldn't tell what he was thinking -- was he scared? Angry? Confused? His facial ticks were so much different than what I was used to, I had no idea what to think. I couldn't read him. I thought again, fearfully, is this Sans?

"... how the hell d'ya know that?" Red Sans's voice was low, his shark teeth flashed in a angry frown. His eyelights shot fear down my spine.

What do I say? What do I do? I don't know! Every semblance of a sentence falls apart before I can get it out. He takes a step towards me; I take a step back. "Oh, not so confident now, are ya? Gonna pretend like you're a little bitchy scaredy cat now, huh? Look, _human_ , you're lucky I haven't just reaped ya for EXP yet. Maybe if ya tell me why the hell you know my name, we can get away scot-free, eh?" His frown was deadly, his eyelights shrinking to none. _"How's that sound?"_ he hissed, his shoe jamming into my numbed toes.

Had it not been for the snow, that would have hurt a lot more, but even still, it threw my walking off balance, and I fell onto the bridge, it creaking horrifyingly loud as I did. It swayed a little; I took a glace at the ground below it -- oh. There wasn't any. Oh no.

My attention was pulled back to the red Sans by force: he grabbed me with his right hand, fingertips jammed into my cheeks, twisting my neck back to face him. He knelt over me, resting his elbows on his kneecaps, face as violent as I'd ever seen his before. No, it's far more deadly. Far more _sincere_.

A bone with a sharpened end manifested itself in the red Sans's free hand. He aimed it directly at me. "Ya gonna talk, or no? Trust me, I don't wanna hurt such'a pretty human as much as the next guy, but I can't have little spies or whatev'a you are runnin' around, ya feel? So, jus' tell me how the hell ya know my name, and I'll let'cha go, sweetheart."

The pet names were horrifying coming from him for the first time in my life. Though, this voice was completely different. His name is Sans but... This isn't Sans. Not at all.

I croaked a sound from my throat, to the red Sans's surprise. I was scared to, but even still, I continued, with the best lie I could muster while having my life flash before my very eyes.

"You... look like someone I know with that name."

But he didn't seem to like it. He immediately frowned, his mouth almost in a pout. "That's it? C'mon, doll face, you're really gonna make me go through all the effort of tryin' to kill ya just for somethin' as simple as that?" He huffed, the bone from his hand dissipating as he dropped my head back onto the wooden bridge. "Such'a waste of energy. C'mon, get'chur ass up. I still sorta got a job or somethin' for watchin' out for humans, so I guess I'll pretend to do that or somethin', I don' fuckin' know." As he stood up, he started mumbling other things to himself, stepping over my body to the other side of the crevice where I assumed his sentry station would be. I slowly got myself up off of the ground, every bit of me still trembling and numb.

"Oh, c'mon, what's the fuckin' hold up?" Red Sans expressed this annoyance loudly as he turned around to face me. I had just managed to stand up when we locked eyes for a second, only able to register fear for a split second before my eyes went fuzzy, and my body went completely limp.

* * *

  
  


The first shock was that I woke up. The second shock was that it was wrapped up practically swaddled in three blankets, curled up on a familiarly ugly carpeted floor. I could feel heat radiating from somewhere, and when I looked up, I spotted a room heater only a few feet away from my gaze. And, only another few feet away from that, coiled up into a stiff ball leaning against the chipping paint on the walls, was the red Sans from before. He had a mug in his hand now, and a expression sprawled across his face that couldn't be described as anything other than "grumpy."

I slowly freed my arms from the blankets around me, the movement startling Sans a bit. "Oh. You're alive," he muttered. It had traces of forced disappointment, but that breathy tone of relief overpowered it. "Don't go fallin' into never-ending canyons like that, a'ight? 's not good." His voice was overall more muffled and slurring, lacking the distinct confidence it held earlier today.

I leaned up from where I had been laying, finding myself in Sans's room once again. But this one was much different. His walls were chipping paint, there was a lot more trash everywhere, and it looked like his window had a big crack in it. Even his door was loose: it was half off the top hinge, leaning crooked into the carpeted floor. I wondered where he got these blankets from -- they were practically pristine, as if they were brand-new, with some really odd design choices. One was flames, another with pirate ships, and the third was a bunch of cats. I kind of giggled at the thought of red Sans here having a soft side for baby kittens, considering he literally threatened my life only not too long ago. Or... maybe it was a while ago. I don't know how long I was asleep.

"Do you like cats?" I asked him, referencing to the blanket around me.

Sans sneered. " _Hell_ no. I hate those damn bastards. My brother's the cat guy. Prob'ly cause they're jus' as horrible as he is." He mumbled the last part, almost as if he didn't want anyone to hear him. He took a loud, long sip from the mug he had still in his grip.

"Do... you not get along with your brother?" I had hesitated, only to stop myself from directly referring to him as Papyrus. I didn't need another death sentence today.

Red Sans laughed. "I couldn't if I wanted'ta. And trust me. I've wanted'ta." He glared at the floor. "Fuckin' asshole's too full of himself to care about me anymore." His voice sounded defeated in a way, losing that pride that he'd been otherwise holding strong. He slammed down another glug, this time quietly and quickly.

I pushed the blankets around me off, with intentions of moving a bit closer to him, but within seconds of the first shuffle I made to leave the bundle, Sans placed down his mug, shortcutting in front of me -- even though it was just a few feet -- and re-wrapping me into the blankets. "You'll get fuckin' cold again. Don't."

I was confused by this sudden turn around from earlier. "But it's hot in here," I confessed, a twinge of a whine lacing my tone.

Now, I should say, that was said entirely seriously, without any second meanings whatsoever.

However, that didn't stop Sans from locking gazes with me, pouting even more so than before, a hint of red whisping across his cheeks. "Don' say shit like that," he murmured, voice slurred as he let go of my blankets.

"What are you talking about? I'm swaddled in a bunch of blankets with a space heater by my head. It's hot."

Suddenly, something clicked, and his face got an even deeper shade of red, teeth sprawling into an angry grin. "F'ckin' bullshit..." he mumbled angrily. "Wh-whatever! Nevermind what I said. Jus'... I don' fuckin' care. Just don't complain if ya get cold again, a'ight?"

And with that, he went back to his huddled position against the wall. I let the blankets slip off of my shoulders as I crept over to where Sans was sitting. He raised a brow as I approached. "What?" he snapped.

"Uh... Can I sit by you?" I asked.

"No. Fuck off."

Oh.

I went back to where I had been sitting before by the room heater, my knees tucked up to my chest so I could lean my chin against them. My eyes fell upon red Sans once again. He wasn't looking back to me, but I was just staring. It was... Hard to see him as a man I once dated. I kept seeing bits and pieces of the Sans I know in him -- each time I see one, my Soul flares up like it's an instinct response. But so much of him was different that it was very hard to think of him as... _Sans._ His speech, his voice, his clothing choice... He was so distinctly different.

And yet, that gaze in his eye sockets was all the same. And the fact that he risked himself to save me... even after threatening me... He was in there, somewhere.

"Sans," I blurted. He grunted a response of acknowledgement. "Why did you save me from falling off into the abyss? Why not leave me? You were going to kill me anyway, weren't you?"

He didn't respond for a long while. I had expected maybe a laugh or a huff or something like that, but he didn't do any of those things. Even still, he refused to make eye contact again, staring into his now-empty mug. "I wasn't gonna kill ya," he breathed. "That's not my style. I know it doesn't make a lotta sense, livin' in a place where ya gotta kill to survive'n'all that shit... but it doesn't feel good. Gaining EXP feels sick." He sighed heavily. "An' I saved ya, 'cause... 'cause... 'c-cause it's my job'ta capture humans, not _kill_ 'um. That's Asgore's job." He didn't sound so sure on that final explanation.

Red Sans set down his mug and rolled out from his ball into a stretched out position, both his feet out before him, and his arms acting as a cusion as they were crossed and sitting behind his head leaning against the wall. But, I couldn't help but notice...

"Nice socks," I commented.

Instantly, Sans jolted, pulling his legs closer to him. "I-I told ya, my brother's the cat guy, not me. These are his socks, a-a'ight? I just didn't feel like doin' laundry!"

They were an off white, with little brown cat faces stitched into them like a polka dot pattern. It really contrasted the rest of his "tough guy" kind of outfit he had going. Admittedly, it was cute.

Outside of his room, towards the front of the house, there was a very loud door slam. Sans's entire body jolted, eyelights falling to slits of white. _"SANS!"_ A scream echoed from the living room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck --" Sans kept repeating this in a panic, looking to me with scattered gazes, flipping his eyes to everything in his room before finally deciding on just grabbing me like some kind of pillow -- I grunted, to which he shushed me -- tossed me onto his bare mattress, and then threw the blankets on top of me. "Be quiet. Don't say a fuckin' thing or you're dead, got it?" Sans hissed to me. The door to his room slammed open.

"SANS." The loud voice ripped through the room without any care for the pain it caused.

Sans's voice followed up, much more quiet and trembling. "Y-yeah, Boss?"

" _HOW_ MANY TIMES THIS WEEK DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO _STAY. AT. YOUR. POST!_ " There was the sound of aggressive tapping on the floorboards. "YOU HAVE EXACTLY _ONE_ JOB AND YOU CAN'T EVEN DO _THAT_ RIGHT. YOU'RE MAKING ME LOOK TERRIBLE WITH THIS STUPID CHARADE OF BEING LAZY YOU HAVE!"

"S-s-sorry, Boss, I'll go back, d-didn't mean'ta worry ya --"

"AND WHY IN THE NAME OF _ASGORE_ DO YOU HAVE _MY_ BLANKETS IN YOUR ROOM?" I froze. Oh no. It's his brother. Steps came closer to me, echoing on the wooden floor like the horrifying sound of hearing a teacher with heels down the hall while you skipped class. I kept still, slowing my breath and doing my best to remain calm. "AND THESE ARE THE ONES I _JUST_ WASHED! AND YOU BRING THEM INTO YOUR DISGUSTING ROOM!"

"S-s-sorry, Boss, I wasn't thinkin' --"

"NO, YOU WEREN'T. I'D SAY RETURN THEM TO ME, BUT --" I felt as he snatched the top one for a moment, dropping it quickly after with a sound of disgust. "EUGH. THEY ALREADY REEK OF MUSTARD AND GREASE. WASH THEM FIRST."

"Y-you got it, B-Boss." Sans's trembling voice was so opposite to the confidence I heard from him earlier that it _alone_ was scaring me. The heels clicked across the floor again, going back to Sans's doorway.

"AND WHEN YOU'RE DONE WITH THAT, COME BACK TO WORK. AND _DON'T_ WASTE TIME." The door slammed shut before Sans could even reply. I relaxed a bit, but nothing happened until there was the front door slam once again. That's when Sans let loose a large breath, throwing the blankets off of me. His eyes were stricken with fear, eyelights trembling slits of white that looked me over the second he saw me again. Did he think I'd disappeared?

"S-sorry you had'ta see that... or, uh, hear that." Sans mumbled as he sat on the opposite end of his bed. "Fuck, sorry, 'm really sorry..."

I sat up quickly. "What's --" But as soon as I saw him, I stopped myself.

His face was deadpan, staring at the floor, his hands loosely thrown across his lap. He didn't say anything, didn't look at me. He just stared. I let him have the silence; Sans needed a moment to recollect himself, that much was evident.

"I'mma ask you somethin'," he mumbled. "Jus' who the hell are you?" I paused, confused, waiting for further explanation. "You don't think I fuckin' noticed when there was somethin' different about ya? You're not the normal kid who comes runnin' around here all willy-nilly'n'shit." Sans inhaled heavily, his hands balling into fists on his lap. "If ya were, things wouldn't be happenin' this way. What the hell did you do? Where the hell did ya come from?"

Honestly, I had no idea how to respond. Should I just say it outright? Would he understand what I'm talking about? Then again, if he recognizes the pattern of every reset, and only now something is different... I think he's probably more able to understand this than I thought. Was this... something Sans always recognizes? The... last one I was with mentioned something about this too. But the... _first_ one I met never said anything about this.

"An' you've got thing on your neck, too." Red Sans looked at me again, eyelights focused on my neck. I stupidly tried to look at it, but then instead reached my hand up to it -- _ow._

Right. The flower.

"Somethin's real weird about ya, sweetheart, and I don't know what the hell it is."

I sighed. Well, the truth is better than nothing. I might as well say it.

"I don't think I'm supposed to be here," I started. Sans snickered and mumbled something like "That much is obvious," but I ignored him. "I was dating you but... you looked different than you do now. I can still see it's you from your face, but... Your resemblance to the Sans I recall is really slim."

Red Sans perked up for a second upon hearing this. His brow furrowed, eyes targeted on my face. "You're kiddin', right? You're out here tryin' to tell me you're from some alternate universe?" He released a gruff sigh, muttering under his breath what sounded like, "For fuck's sake." He continued mumbling for a little while longer until something hit him. His muttering stopped as a very uncharacteristic squeak left his teeth, Sans slapping his hand across his mouth as he flew to the very edge of his mattress, eyelights staring at me. Almost like his hand was burning his face, it started glowing red. "D-d-d-... D-did you say you were... _dating_ me?" He sounded almost scared.

I tilted my head. "Yes," I answered truthfully. I figured I better not ask why.

His hand dropped from his face, the corners of his mouth twitching a bit, but Sans otherwise didn't stop staring at me. His gaze did flicker for a while, though, as if he was suddenly very interested in every inch of my body, his face glowing brighter by the second. Eventually he met my eyes again and started rambling. "L-look, doll face, I know I said ya looked pretty earlier, but if you're gonna jus', uh, make up some whack story about how we were datin' in another world or time or _whatever,_ jus'... I-I dunno, jus'... jus' outright tell me if ya like me like a normal person, a'ight?! Don't do... whatever stupid business you're doin' right now!"

His words made sense, but the sentences didn't string well together.

"Sans, I'm not lying."

"You jus' makin' shit up to make up for the fact that you knew my name, right? You jus' knew it from somewhere. I don't fuckin' know where the hell a human would live unnoticed in the Underground but you're one helluva spy t'jus'... I dunno, do whatever the hell ya do? Look, I won't turn ya in! I'll keep ya here or whatever so Asgore doesn't kill ya! You can just tell me you're doin' whatever spy human-y shit you're doin', I don't fuckin' know, without lyin' about it!"

"Sans, I'm not lying," I repeated.

"How the hell's a guy like me supposed'ta believe that? That ya cared 'bout me enough wherever else to date me in a diff'rent timeline? Nah, nah that's bullshit!" He violently shook his hands, as if throwing away the idea. "You're speakin' straight up bullshit!"

"What would make you believe me?"

He halted his speech, staring at me blankly. Sans's face ran through several different expressions at once, overall looking overwhelmed and confused. Eventually, he settled on anger: "Don't suggest shit like that, human," he hissed.

"Suggest what?" I blinked, genuinely confused as to whether or not I said something weird.

"Stop! Suggestin' you like me! 's bullshit!" He ran through an amalgam of confused emotions again, his hands trembling into fists once again. "It... It's not... Nobody..." Sans shook his head. "Don't fuckin' bother with me, a'ight? Whatever, I don't care if you're being truthful or not! Jus' don't mess with _me_! Do whatever little reset-y thin' you humans do whenever somethin' goes wrong and find somebody else!"

The room held a silence. Sans just breathed heavily for a long while, seemingly winded from yelling so much. But I, on the other hand...

"What do you mean... 'reset'?"

First, he was pissed at the question, and I was expecting another attack of words, but then his expression suddenly fell to something so somber and gentle that he reminded me of the Sans I met. Something about that look in his eyes -- that flicker of hope in his eye sockets, the faintness of a dream across his reddend face, it reminded me of that time. The MTT resort. That pseudo date. When I decided to turn back and stay. That same hope and dream.

"Y... You're jokin', now," red Sans heaved. "No, no, you're... You gotta be messin' with me... But how... How..." His head drooped, attention given entirely to his floor. "I don't get it... but, why... why? Why would you do that to yourself?"

Taken aback, I quickly replied, "Do what to myself?"

"... Deal with _me._ Put up with _me._ Learn how to... love _me._ "

His voice was quiet and tender, as if on the edge of breaking.

Sans didn't look at me.

His whole body was trembling.

He was gripping onto the sleeves of his sweatshirt for dear life.

It's as if he was near death.

I carefully thought through my words before I spoke. One misstep could send this the wrong way entirely. I took in a deep breath. And another. And another. Before finally deciding to give him my honest confession.

"It's not so hard to love every aspect of someone once you've already fallen for them. You're not exempt from being lovable."

He chuckled. He let loose a heavier laugh. "Doll face... That's cute, but you're wrong." He stared me in the face, his expression of confidence hiding the fear within his shaking eyelights. "My own fuckin' brother doesn't even love me. We grew up together, I practically raised him, and... he doesn't care 'bout me anymore." He sucked in a harsh breath. "He was all I had left after... after... a-after..." Breath stuttering even harder, he forced himself to continue. "... but now I'm nothing to him. Just some guy he can use for whatever stupid shit he's gotta do... he won't even let me call him my brother anymore. He's..." Sans pulled himself into a tight hug, death-gripping his arms as he trembled, voice cracking with every breath he took. His eyelights had fallen to the floor, focusing on nothing.

"I can't even be loved by my own damn brother, and you're expectin' me to just... believe that you _dated_ me in another timeline?" Sans croaked with more laughter. "Sweetheart, I..." His tone started sarcastic, but he couldn't even bring himself to finish whatever joke he'd started. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut, his jaw quivering slightly before he finally settled on what to say. "Even if you loved me then, I... I don't think I could bring myself to love you like you love me. I - I can't... do that again."

"Sans," I breathed. His attention flicked up to me again, however nervously. "It's okay. I promise you, I'm not going to hurt you. I'd swear my life on it." I offered him a smile; his eyelights perked up for the first time during this whole endeavor.

"There's almost nothing you could do or be that would make me stop loving you."

Ah. A line I would later come to regret.


End file.
